Unintended
by Sherlocked95
Summary: Sequel to Endlessly. Follows the same 30 Day OTP Challenge prompts. Like Endlessly, each one will form a plot arc. Rated M for language but subject to change. MerlinxArthur slash.
1. Holding Hands

**I'd like to thank everyone for all the reviews and follows/favourites I got on Endlessly, I really appreciated it. I'm incredibly excited to write the sequel. It'll follow the same OTP challenge prompts, so this first one is 'Holding Hands'. I hope you enjoy.**

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Merlin's heart jumped (and thank goodness _that _was back to normal, it had been incredibly strange not having a normal heartbeat) when he saw Arthur at the end of the corridor. Things had been going well between them but he'd barely seen Arthur in close to two weeks now.

A foreign delegation was staying in Camelot; King and Queen of Theor, their daughter and their knights. The castle workers had been incredibly busy playing host to the foreign nobility. Arthur had been spending all of his free time entertaining the guests and ensuring that the alliance was beneficial for both kingdoms before the two kings signed it, officially forming a treaty between the two kingdoms. King Brainard and Arthur got on surprisingly well considering the age difference between the two but they both wanted the best for the kingdoms before signing the alliance.

All of the servants – including Merlin – had been assigned to various knights to serve night and day. The rulers of Theor apparently had decided it would be too much hassle to bring their own servants with them when they could sample the infamous _best _of Camelot's servants, including the king's manservant who was often spoken about in a reverent manner by lower servants and had been boasted about to the King and Queen of Theor. So Merlin barely slept and barely ate, too busy keeping up with his usual chores for Arthur as well as serving the Queen and one of Theor's knights. As much as he liked the delegation and was treated well by them, he was looking forward to their departure; he could finally get some decent sleep and also spend time with Arthur.

Arthur glanced up and his blue eyes caught Merlin's. A small, barely noticeable smile edged onto his face but he didn't break conversation with King Brainard as they strode down the corridor. The two kings weren't alone; walking slightly behind them was three knights, and behind them two flustered looking servants who did not dare raise their eyes from the heels of the boots of the nobility in front of them.

Merlin slipped into one of the servant passages as was expected when a servant encountered a group of nobility in the corridor of the castle. Normally he didn't pay attention to such customs – Arthur and the knights were never outraged by his flouting them – but with the foreign delegation he knew better than to slip into his usual habits. He waited for the group to pass so he could continue on his way to the kitchens.

Arthur suddenly waved Brainard and his knights to continue on before dropping back slightly as if to give one of the servants an order. He did so, speaking in a quiet but firm voice and not glancing away from the path ahead of him. However, he did suddenly reach out slightly, his hand catching Merlin's as he passed.

Their touch lingered enough for Merlin to feel the warmth of the dry skin, the pulse in Arthur's wrist. His fingertips brushed tidy nails, dents from holding a quill and calloused skin from fighting and wielding a sword. They were a king's hands, completely and thoroughly, and Merlin loved them.

Arthur slid him a barely perceptible glance and a smile before their hands were forced apart as Arthur passed the servant's corridor completely. Merlin dropped his hand back to his side, rubbing his fingertips together where they'd touched Arthur's, and smiled.

It would be a while until they could spend some real time together...but that had been enough for now.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

"Arthur, your manservant is so _tame_. It truly is remarkable. You've broken him in well."

Merlin hid his irritation as he poured wine into Queen Luella's goblet with a forced smile. She gazed at him with kind brown eyes and he knew her words were meant as praise and not cruel. But still..._broken him in well_?

"I'm not a bloody horse," he muttered to himself as he turned away.

He caught Arthur's entertained expression and shot him a glare before dropping his gaze to the ground respectfully. He hated these customs, he really did. He disliked forcing himself out of his usual (admittedly disrespectful) habits. He was sure he would eventually slip up and offend the delegation. He didn't want to show Arthur up.

"Merlin," Arthur called cheerfully. "More wine."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin forced a smile, aware that his use of 'sire' would antagonise the king. He moved to Arthur's side and poured more wine into his goblet.

"I've heard nothing but praise from Caldwell," Queen Luella added, gesturing to the Theor knight Merlin had been serving.

Caldwell winked at Merlin and he dropped his gaze again. Arthur glanced between the two of them, raising an eyebrow questioningly. But Merlin knew better than to talk about it out loud and instead remained silent, concentrating on his duties.

The feast ended well into the early hours of the morning and Merlin was exhausted as he headed towards the physician's chambers. His body ached and he felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. His stomach growled slightly but he ignored it. Sleep was more tempting than food right now.

As soon as he shut the door to the physician's chambers behind him, he was enveloped in solid arms. He tensed, shifting to defend himself before he realised that the man hugging him was Arthur. He smiled, sliding his fingertips down his spine and settling comfortably into the comforting warmth.

"I've missed this," he mumbled against Arthur's shoulder.

"Mm," Arthur hummed in agreement. "They'll be gone soon." He pulled back slightly to look at him. "You look exhausted, Merlin."

He offered a small grin. "I am."

Arthur wordlessly drew him back into a hug and they stood like that for several minutes, content to just remain in one another's arms.


	3. Gaming

"Merlin."

He groaned, refusing to open his eyes. He could tell from the utter _darkness_ that the room wasn't illuminated by sunlight, so it wasn't morning. He'd only managed to go to bed in the early hours; he wasn't ready to wake up after so little sleep.

"_Merlin_, wake up."

He considered using magic to divert Gaius' attention but quickly dismissed the ridiculous idea conjured by sleep deprivation. He'd never use magic on Gaius, not unless it was necessary.

He curled up in a ball, trying to allow slumber to pull him back in. But it was too late; he was all too aware of his aching, tired body and his headache and that was enough to rouse him completely. He sighed, shifting onto his back and opening his eyes to glare at the elderly physician.

"_Tired_," he grumbled.

"There's a servant at the door asking for you," Gaius told him, his voice kind. "I know you need sleep but one of the knights from the foreign delegation is requesting your presence."

Merlin swore quietly and quickly scrambled to his feet. Gaius handed him a glass of water and a pile of neatly folded clothes. He finished the water in one go, letting the cold liquid refresh him, before pulling on his clothes.

The servant was still at the door, head bowed respectfully as the physician returned to his bed. He kept his head bowed as Merlin approached; he was the king's manservant and of a higher position than most of the other servants. He didn't particularly like it but it sometimes came in handy when he needed something done quickly.

He dismissed the servant who looked relieved to be able to retire until dawn and hurried to the guest chambers where Caldwell was staying. He knocked on the door.

"Yes, Merlin."

Merlin entered the chambers and stood quietly close to the door, hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed. Caldwell was already up and dressed.

He pointed to where his armour was piled on the table in the corner.

"I need my armour cleaned and polished and my sword sharpened by dawn," he instructed.

Merlin nodded and collected the armour from the table. Sir Caldwell didn't give any further instructions and once he was dismissed, Merlin took the armour and sword to the armoury. It was empty, dark and cold at this hour and he shivered as he shut the door behind him. He lit a few of the torches on the walls to illuminate the chamber before hauling the pile of armour to the centre.

He started on the sword first, balancing it carefully and picking up the rock used to sharpen the blade. He winced at the terrible sound of the rock scraping across the edge of the blade. It was a sound he disliked and it was made even worse by his sleep deprivation.

The door opened and he paused, looking up in surprise as Queen Luella entered the armoury. Merlin was relieved to see she wasn't in sleepwear – seeing her in it would likely get him in trouble – but instead wore an expensive purple gown. Her hair was, however, messy and loose around her shoulders and she wasn't wearing her crown. As she sat on one of the few chairs in the armoury, Merlin noticed that her feet were bare.

He quickly bowed his head. "Your Highness."

"Relax, Merlin," her tone was warm, amused. "I know you're not as tame as you'd have me believe and that is quite alright. I rather like servants with spirit."

Merlin glanced up at her and couldn't help but grin in response. Luella wasn't typically beautiful but she was attractive; she had a soft face lined with age that made her look warm and motherly, gentle brown eyes, a kind smile and long dark hair. She had a personality that drew Merlin in despite her being foreign royalty.

"I see Caldwell has woken you up to do his bidding," she murmured. "He should have warned you last night about the game."

Merlin glanced up at her, curious. "Game?"

"In Theor we have a game that the knights like to indulge themselves in quite frequently. I rather enjoyed playing it too in my youth but now I only watch. My husband has challenged your king to play the game and win, playing against our knights."

"What is the game?" Merlin asked.

"It's quite simple, really. Somewhere in the forest is a scarf tied to a tree. The first one to capture the scarf and return to the castle with it wins. Those are the only rules. To get to the scarf first, there is often combat involved in the race and players are allowed to try and take the scarf from another player."

"It sounds...brutal," Merlin frowned. _Combat_? Hardly any rules? It sounded like it could get violent.

"Of course, no one is to seriously harm another person or cause injuries, only try and take the scarf. It tests strength, speed, stamina, strategy and, of course, is remarkably fun. Your king seemed rather keen to experience it. The game starts just after dawn."

That explained why Caldwell wanted his armour and sword finished by dawn. He gave the edge of the blade a few more strokes with the rock.

"Who does the scarf belong to?" he asked.

"Flavia."

Theor's princess. Her scarf would definitely be an incentive for the men to try and win it and impress the princess. Merlin smiled ruefully. He continued to sharpen the knight's sword as Luella gazed at him thoughtfully.

"You're an interesting man, Merlin," she said after a moment. "You've captured the hearts of quite a few people."

Merlin blinked, surprised. "I'm sorry, Your Highness?"

"I see more than people would believe," she smiled. "That lovely serving girl, for example, the dark skinned one. She seems rather infatuated. And Flavia for another."

Merlin had been so sure – and terrified – that she'd picked up on Caldwell's flirtations that her mention of Flavia was a shock. He jumped and the rock jolted from his hands; his palm hit the edge of the blade and he winced as it cut through his flesh.

Luella noticed the blood on his pale flesh and frowned, leaning forward. "Let me see?"

"It's alright, Your Highness. My guardian is the physician."

She waved away his response and reached out, grasping his wrist gently. She inspected the cut, frowning in sympathy before releasing him.

"I'll ask another servant to finish here," she told him.

"Thank you, Your Highness," he bowed and left the armoury.

However, she fell into step beside him, walking with him as he headed in the direction of Gaius' chambers. They passed one of the few servants still awake and she requested that they finished Caldwell's armour and sword. With a nod and a bow, they hurried towards the armoury.

"My daughter is quite smitten with you, Merlin," Luella smiled. "She thinks she has me fooled but she is still young and I am her mother. I see how drawn to you she is."

"Your Highness..."

"I have no issue with servants and nobles falling in love, Merlin," she winked playfully before turning away.

Merlin watched her go, mouth agape. She...she was trying to inspire a romance between him and her daughter. He groaned at the thought. Ignoring the fact that having an affair with a princess would put him in a fair amount of trouble, he certainly wasn't interested.

The sharp pain in his hand drew him away from his thoughts and he hurried towards Gaius' chambers, wondering what the game would have in store for Arthur.

**0**

Merlin had hoped to be at Arthur's side during the game. Unfortunately, Caldwell had requested his assistance and instead another of Camelot's servants served Arthur. Merlin barely saw a glimpse of him in the crowd of knights and their servants in the court. The King and Queen of Theor stood slightly apart. The king wasn't participating in the game; too old and too slow with his limp leg. The princess, a young, lovely girl, stood with them. She caught Merlin's gaze and smiled.

The king announced the start of the game and immediately the sound of hooves clattering echoed around them as the crowd set off. Merlin remained beside Sir Caldwell as they picked up the pace, eventually riding into the forest.

"Where do you think it will be, Sir?" Merlin asked.

"I know the princess well," Caldwell assured. "I believe we will find it first."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at Caldwell's self assured attitude but made no comment. They rode steadily in silence for a while until Merlin saw a flash of vibrant purple ahead of them. He picked up the pace and Caldwell followed, clapping a hand on the servant's back when they saw that it _was_ the scarf.

"Get it for me," Caldwell instructed. "If we encounter any of the others, they'll believe that I have it, not the servant."

Merlin bit back a retort and dismounted, approaching the tree carefully and keeping an eye out for any of the other knights or servants. He untied the silk scarf with nimble fingers and knotted it around his wrist, tugging the sleeve of his jacket down to hide it.

They started back in the direction of the citadel, Caldwell loud and slightly irritating in his triumph. It was short lived, however; the sound of hooves surrounded them and within moments, there was a servant behind them, closing in, and Arthur in front of them.

"Hand it over, Caldwell," he smirked.

"With all due respect, Your Highness," the knight nodded respectfully before grinning, "_Never_."

Arthur dismounted and drew his sword. After a pause, Caldwell mimicked the movement, approaching the king on careful feet. The servant behind Merlin did not move; servants were not permitted to fight or get involved, only aid the knights.

As the screech of metal clashing pierced the air, Merlin slowly and carefully loosened the knot on the scarf around his wrist. It took only a few minutes before Caldwell hit the ground with a low curse and Arthur was on his horse again, taking off.

Merlin dropped his hand to his side and felt strong fingers remove the scarf with one quick tug. He winked at Arthur as he passed, receiving a small smile in response, and then the king and his temporary servant were gone.

Caldwell scrambled to his feet, sheathing his sword and hurrying towards the servant.

"Did he get it?" he demanded. "Did he get the scarf?"

Merlin looked down at his wrist and forced a dismayed expression. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid so, Sir."

Caldwell let loose a long stream of curses, some of them aimed at Merlin, but he simply smiled as they continued on the path to the citadel. When they arrived, most of the knights had returned and Arthur was triumphantly holding the scarf out to the princess, who accepted it with a blush and a curtsey.

Caldwell grumbled as the king and queen of Theor praised Arthur, clearly impressed that he had won a game he'd never played before. Merlin bowed to the knight and led the horses to the stables.

"Merlin, a word," Arthur called out as Merlin was about to enter the castle.

He paused on the steps before turning, his head bowed. Arthur approached him and waited until they were alone before settling his hand on the servant's shoulder, smiling.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I wasn't sure if you would help me or refuse to because you were aiding Caldwell."

"My loyalties lie with you," Merlin shrugged indifferently. "I'm glad you won."

"Come to my chambers later."

Merlin glanced up and smiled at the playful look in Arthur's eyes.


	4. On A Date

**a/n: I have a question for you guys...would you like smut in this story? If I did include some mature scenes, would it bother you?**

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As soon as Merlin was dismissed from his duties by Sir Caldwell, he headed straight for Arthur's chambers. He didn't bother knocking – he rarely did now – and instead entered immediately.

Arthur was in the bath. Merlin still found it slightly irritating that another servant was currently tending to Arthur – _helping him to dress_ and running his baths – but he pushed it away as he shut the doors behind him.

"You look exhausted," Arthur murmured.

"I am," Merlin shrugged. "I've been tending to both the queen and Sir Caldwell."

"Mm," Arthur sighed. "Caldwell."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the annoyed tone to Arthur's voice but the king didn't offer any explanation. He finished washing and climbed out of the bath, disappearing behind the screen to dry and dress.

Merlin made his way over to the bed, flopping face down onto it. He sighed in relief as soon as he was off his feet. His body ached but his feet were the worst, especially with the poor condition of his boots. He closed his eyes, wishing he could just _sleep_.

A hand on the small of his back made him jump. Arthur kneeled beside him, fingers trailing up his spine, rubbing soothing circles against his skin. Merlin moaned slightly, encouraging him to continue.

"It seems Caldwell has taken to you," Arthur murmured, leaning down to kiss the nape of Merlin's neck. "He's been rather flirtatious."

"It means nothing, Arthur," Merlin shrugged. "I'd rather he treat me in that way than how knights often treat the servants."

"What?"

Merlin opened one eye to look at him. "Arthur, knights from other kingdoms...some of Camelot's knights, in fact...they can be tough on servants. Abusive."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur demanded.

"I have. Numerous times." Merlin let his irritation with the king show.

"I'll sort it."

"Mm."

"You've been pushed too much recently, Merlin. You're so tired." Arthur sounded concerned.

"It's not..." Merlin pushed himself up to sit beside Arthur, frowning slightly. "It's not because I'm working too hard. I told you, I'm bound to get tired easier. I'm weaker."

Arthur tensed beside him and Merlin sighed. They hadn't talked about the lasting effects of what had occurred during the battle. Merlin figured it hurt Arthur to think of just how much trying to give his life to bring Arthur back had affected Merlin and he didn't want to push the king into discussing it.

"I want to go on a date," Arthur blurted.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "When the foreign delegation leaves?"

"Now."

"Arthur," Merlin sighed. "I'm tired."

Arthur looked at him with gentle blue eyes, smiling slightly. "Come on."

Merlin gazed back stubbornly for a moment before losing the battle. He wasn't really sure he wanted to fight it anyway. A date with Arthur sounded good since they hadn't been able to spend much time with each other.

"Alright."

**0**

"A tavern, Arthur? That's your idea of a decent date?"

Arthur shot him a look as they sat at a table in the tavern and Merlin grinned. Arthur bought the ale. Once they were relatively alone, Arthur smiled slightly.

"I miss you," he murmured. "The temporary servant is irritating. He can actually do the job unlike you."

Merlin mocked being hurt by Arthur's words before smirking, "Well, neither the queen nor Caldwell seem to have any complaints about my abilities."

Arthur's expression darkened. "Caldwell wouldn't."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I love you, you clotpole."

Arthur smiled, eyes sparkling and they clanked tankards together before drinking. Merlin grimaced slightly at the taste of ale. Much to Gwaine's amusement, he'd never been fond of the alcohol. But the tavern provided a good excuse when he needed to get away from the castle without raising questions.

"Listen, Merlin," Arthur paused, glancing down at the rough surface of the table. "I've been thinking...once this alliance is sorted, I'm going to talk to Geoffrey about getting the laws regarding magic altered."

Merlin choked on a drink of ale, coughing slightly. He stared at Arthur with wide eyes, trying to see if he was serious.

"Arthur..." he said faintly. "Are you sure?"

"Merlin, I never want you to change who you are. You and others like you deserve to be free. Magic isn't evil. I'm going to keep some laws in place and ensure that those who use magic for evil are punished. But magic itself won't be outlawed."

Merlin closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. This was something that he'd longed for since he'd been a child. Magic to be free...for _him_ to be free.

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders at the thought. By doing this, Arthur would be fulfilling his destiny and Merlin would be fulfilling his by aiding Arthur in lifting the ban on magic. Albion would eventually unite and the lands would be in peace.

When he opened his eyes, they were gold. His magic shifted in his veins in response to the surge of joy he felt at Arthur's decision. This felt right..._natural_.

Arthur gazed at him but didn't flinch at the supernatural gold of his eyes. He stared at them with wonder in his own eyes, leaning in slightly to observe them.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin breathed. "You have no idea..." he choked slightly.

Arthur reached across the table, gripping his hand briefly. "I think I do."

Merlin smiled and they pulled apart, settling into comfortable conversation. Arthur watched in slight disappointment as Merlin's irises returned to their usual shade of blue and felt a warm tug at his heart.

He could see how much this meant to Merlin and he knew he had made the right decision.


	5. Kissing

"I need my sword blunted," Caldwell turned to the servant. "I'm joining the knights in training later and apparently King Arthur insists that all swords are harmless." He sniffed at the idea.

Merlin was tempted to roll his eyes but resisted the urge. Theor's knights were somewhat brutal with a love of violence. It didn't stop them from being remarkable knights and they weren't bad men. But in Merlin's mind, there was a line between necessary violence and violence done purely for fun. He found it hard to respect anyone who had a love for the latter.

"Yes, Sir," he bowed.

Caldwell smiled, approaching him slowly. Merlin held his ground, keeping a polite but distant expression on his face. The knight wasn't intimidating or sinister. He didn't even appear threatening. But he had the look of someone who was accustomed to getting what he desired – much like Arthur had been when they'd first met – but Merlin wasn't going to acquiesce because he was of an inferior status.

"How much are you paid, Merlin?"

Merlin blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Erm...well, I..."

Caldwell didn't wait for his stuttered answer, stopping just short of colliding with Merlin's skinny but stubborn body. "Because in Theor, we reward our servants handsomely for their services."

Merlin gazed back calmly, maintaining a respectful but cool disposition. Caldwell was close enough that Merlin could feel his body heat but he held himself in place. He had no intention of stepping closer or of welcoming Caldwell's flirtations, but retreating was likely to trigger further issues.

"I can offer you a job in Theor."

"Respectfully, sir, my job is in Camelot."

A knock on the door interrupted Caldwell's response. He didn't step back or break gazes with Merlin as he called, "Enter."

Merlin saw a red cape, pale skin and blonde hair and bit back a curse. Of course it would be bloody _Arthur_ who entered the chambers at that moment. Arthur didn't pause or react to the sight of Caldwell standing awkwardly close to his servant.

"Sir Caldwell, training begins in half an hour," he informed the knight.

Caldwell turned away from Merlin and dipped into a low bow. "Thank you, Your Highness." He glanced at Merlin. "Dismissed."

Merlin executed a quick, less flamboyant bow and left the chambers without risking a glance at the king's face. He wasn't certain if Arthur would say anything to the knight but he very much doubted it. It would be a terrible idea to draw attention to the relationship between the king and his manservant.

Merlin was heading towards the armoury to dull the blade of Caldwell's sword when a strong hand gripped his upper arm. Before he could cry out or defend himself, he was pulled into the darkened alcove between two of the staircases leading to the towers and pushed firmly against the cold wall.

He saw blue eyes and relaxed in relief before warm, insistent lips captured his own. He let his body soften against Arthur's as he gripped his hips, pulling their bodies tightly together.

"Arthur," he groaned slightly against the other man's lips. "Stop."

Arthur released him immediately and pulled back to look at his face. He could tell immediately what had caused Merlin's hesitance and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not kissing you because of Caldwell. I'm kissing you because I haven't had chance to in far too long."

Merlin smiled and, this time, he was the one to initiate the kiss. He pushed his tongue into Arthur's, closing his eyes as the kiss deepened and he let everything focus on the warmth and taste of the man he was kissing.

When he felt something hard press against his hip, he pulled away reluctantly, licking his swollen lips.

"I have to go," he murmured. "And you have to go train."

"Bloody hell," Arthur breathed, pressing his forehead against Merlin's neck as he tried to calm himself down. "I don't think I can train like this."

"Your fault," Merlin grinned.

Arthur huffed and pulled away, readjusting himself in his trousers. "I'll see you later."

Merlin pressed a firm kiss against his lips and slipped out of the alcove, ducking his head to avoid being caught with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

Merlin woke up in the early hours to find Arthur sat in his room, watching him. He wasn't surprised anymore. He frequently stirred in the night to find Arthur there. Sometimes he simply couldn't sleep and decided to keep Merlin up with him, sometimes he wanted to watch Merlin sleep...and sometimes he woke up to see a soft, sad expression on Arthur's face and he hated that he was the reason it was there. Those times Arthur was there because he wanted to be sure that Merlin was still alive.

This was one of those times. Merlin caught the shine of tears in Arthur's eyes and knew he'd had another nightmare, remembering vividly losing Merlin during the battle. He didn't try and talk about it anymore, knowing that his reassurances rarely worked.

Instead, he wordlessly held out his hand. Arthur took it, clutching at his hand for a moment before drawing near. After a moment, he peeled off his shirt and trousers before sliding into the bed next to Merlin.

Merlin rolled onto his side to gaze at Arthur before leaning in, pressing their lips together gently. He grasped Arthur's wrists and placed his hands on his body, letting the other man brush his fingertips over his ribs, his stomach, his neck, feeling the warmth of his body. Finally, he pressed his thumbs against Merlin's wrists, feeling the powerful thrum of his pulse.

Merlin didn't open his mouth to assure Arthur that he was alive, that he was here. Instead he pressed forward, fitting their bodies together perfectly and letting Arthur deepen the kiss, moving in slow, unhurried movements. He let his body make the reassurances that simple words could not.

"No," Arthur whispered when he realised Merlin's intent. "Not this time. You're tired and I just...I just want to feel you next to me."

Merlin gazed at him for a moment before nodding in understanding. Arthur curled an arm around his waist, keeping him close, and Merlin pressed his forehead into the crook of Arthur's neck, breathing in his scent.

Arthur slid a hand between their chests, his palm flat against Merlin's chest and he closed his eyes as he felt the strong heartbeat beneath it. He listened to Merlin's soft, slow breathing as he fell asleep again and let it reassure him that his nightmare wasn't real. Merlin was alive and he would do everything in his power to ensure that things remained that way.

He was lulled into sleep by the comforting sound of Merlin's breathing.

**0**

When Merlin woke up, he realised that sunlight had illuminated his chambers and, judging by the angle of it, had risen long ago. He cursed, realising that he was probably late. A sharp series of knocks on his door enforced that realisation.

He swore quietly as he eased out of bed, managing not to wake the blonde man beside him. He pulled on his clothes and crept over to the door, pulling it open slightly and filling the gap so his visitor had no chance of seeing the man in his bed.

He blinked in astonishment when he realised that his visitor was the Queen. He swallowed, about to bow when she held up her hand, stopping his formality.

"Caldwell says you're late," she smiled. "I thought I'd check in on you myself."

"I...er...well, thank you for your concern, Your Highness, but I'm afraid I simply overslept. I apologise."

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him over Luella's shoulder, shaking his head slightly. The physician had probably attempted to wake him. He offered a quick, sheepish smile to his mentor before focusing on the queen again.

"I see," her eyes were warm with amusement. "Well, I'll inform Caldwell that you'll be there soon. I'm sure he'll understand. Take your time, Merlin; I'm sure your lady friend will appreciate you waking her up."

He blushed furiously as he realised that she knew he'd spent the night with someone. But he hadn't actually done anything more than kissing and that someone was a _man_, the king of Camelot, no less. Thankfully, she hadn't picked up on that.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

She winked and disappeared down the steps. A second later, he heard the door to the physician's chambers shut. Gaius folded his arms and looked up at his ward, shaking his head slightly.

"Honestly, Merlin, you're remarkably careless sometimes."

He grinned. "Sorry, Gaius."

"You should wake the king before anyone questions his absence."

Merlin gaped at the physician, stunned. _He knew_? A mischievous smile tugged at the old man's lips when he saw Merlin's expression.

"I'm old, Merlin, not oblivious. I saw this coming a long time ago. Now go wake him."

Merlin nodded, still reeling from the realisation that Gaius _knew_ about him and Arthur. Of course, he knew Gaius wouldn't tell anyone but he'd thought the man would be uncomfortable if he discovered that Merlin was not only in love with a _man_, but with the _king_, no less. Apparently, he'd vastly underestimated his guardian.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Gaius called as the warlock moved to return to his room. "You might wish to switch shirts."

Merlin glanced down to find that, in his haste to answer the door, he'd pulled on Arthur's shirt rather than his own. He wanted to smack himself in the face at his stupidity and he blushed as he looked up at Gaius, offering a sheepish shrug.

"Careless," Gaius repeated with a loud _tut_.

Merlin grinned and hurried back into his room, shutting the door behind him. He peeled off Arthur's shirt reluctantly and found his own on the chair, tugging it on. He tied a scarf around his neck and, remembering Arthur's lecture from not long ago, pulled on a jacket before his boots. He immediately felt warmer and knew he had to remember his jacket more often.

Once he was dressed, he leaned down, kissing Arthur's bare shoulder. The king stirred slightly, moaning softly as Merlin trailed his fingertips down his ribs. He slid them over Arthur's stomach, grinning when the abdominal muscles tightened before relaxing again at the touch. Really, Arthur was _far _too easy to get worked up.

"Morning, Arthur," he greeted when the king opened his sleepy eyes. "I'm late."

"Mmf," Arthur groaned. "Stay."

Merlin snorted at the suggestion.

"You can't leave me after..." Arthur glanced down pointedly.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "I'll see you later."

"Fine. But I'm borrowing one of your shirts."

Merlin waved him off and left with a smirk on his face, ignoring Gaius' pointed look.


	7. Cosplaying

**a/n: this is an AU modern and doesn't fit into the story arc of the rest of Unintended.**

* * *

"I thought Morgana wanted us to go with her theme," Arthur grumbled, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. He was too tired to be enthusiastic about Mordred's Halloween party but Merlin's almost childish excitement had him biting his tongue.

"_Doctor Who_?" Merlin snorted. "Predictable. Besides, she, Morgause, Lance and Gwen already bagged the best characters. I was left with Jethro and you were left with being a cyberman. Dull. This is much more fun."

Arthur raised an eyebrow dubiously, glancing once again at his reflection. He wasn't certain how much Merlin had spent on his costume – probably far more than he had on his own – but he suspected it was a lot. He wasn't sure why Merlin was so keen on Arthur's costume but he'd invested a lot of effort into making it realistic; peasant style trousers and shirt beneath heavy chainmail, gleaming armour and old boots. He even had a helmet, cape and a fake sword and shield. It was heavy and he was already feeling incredibly hot in his flat. He knew that, within an hour of being in an overheated hall full of people, he'd shed a lot of the armour and chainmail in favour of being able to breathe and dance.

He glanced at his shield; Merlin, who was, apparently, secretly a remarkably good artist had spent a lot of time painstakingly painting a gold insignia of something that resembled an elaborate dragon.

"Why a knight, Merlin?" he huffed. "I look ridiculous."

Merlin snorted but didn't answer.

"We don't even match," Arthur muttered.

Merlin blinked, clearly surprised by that remark. Then he smiled tentatively, his blue eyes sparkling as he turned to look at his partner.

"Oh, you wanted us to match like the other couples?" he tilted his head slightly. "How unusually romantic for you."

Arthur shrugged, embarrassed. "Well, I just...I wanted people to see our matching costumes and, you know..."

He wanted Mordred to see the matching costumes and get it through his thick skull that Merlin was _his_. Mordred was a good kid, really, a loyal friend and quiet cute in his naivety. But the massive crush he'd developed on Merlin had quickly moved from being humorous and sweet to infuriating.

"Arthur," Merlin shook his head slightly, smiling. "I don't think anyone will mistake us for anything _other_ than a couple considering I'll be glued to your mouth half the night."

"Really?" he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"You look sexy. Like...really sexy."

Arthur looked at his reflection again, not seeing the appeal. But there was an unmistakable gleam in Merlin's eyes and he grinned, aware that they'd probably be leaving the party early.

"I always thought you'd look right in armour," Merlin shrugged, returning to painting a slim black line over his whitened lips. "I was correct."

"And what are you going as?"

He studied Merlin's costume; tight fitting black suit with white pinstripes, bones painted onto his hands, his face painted white with dark circles painted around his eyes and stitches across his mouth. He looked like he was going as a skeleton but, knowing Merlin, Arthur doubted it was as simple as that.

"Jack Skeletal," Merlin answered and, at Arthur's blank look, huffed. "From _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. You know, Tim Burton. You've never seen it?"

Arthur shook his head and Merlin shook his head despairingly.

"We're watching it when we get back."

Arthur grinned; after all, it was just another excuse to leave the party early.


	8. Shopping

**Important a/n: For those who read the chapter 8 I posted the other day, there is an explanation as to why it was deleted and now replaced on my tumblr. I'd appreciate it if you checked it out so you know why I felt the need to delete it.**

**Also, to all my readers: I'll be posting story-related news and such (maybe even some previews) on my tumblr account from now on, so if you're interested, there is a link direct to my tumblr on my fanfiction profile or my URL is 'sherlocked95'.  
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* * *

Merlin sighed as he dropped to the ground, sprawling his legs out and letting his back thud against the trunk of a tree. Even at the distance he now was, he could still hear the faint noise of the market and he huffed, closing his eyes. He had a headache.

Almost absently, he let his fingers run through the grass, his magic pulsing into the ground, reviving the dead roots. He let his head rest against the trunk, his body relaxing as the steady expulsion of his magic into the nature surrounding him eased his tension. He wasn't certain why he was allowing himself to get so worked up over something as trivial. There were other matters to be concerning himself with; the foreign delegation, the situation with Sir Caldwell, and, of course, the constant anxiety that at any moment some other danger involving Camelot would occur.

But Arthur had been so..._nice_ on his birthday. It was rare that Arthur was horrible to Merlin, of course. He joked and they teased but he was never cruel. But it was also rare to see the king so completely open and uninhibited by the weight he bore on his shoulders. It was rare to see him act with such sweet affection towards his servant. The gifts were only a small part of how kind Arthur had been. How could Merlin repay that for the king's birthday?

A thud underneath his fingertips drew him out of his increasingly frustrated thoughts and he immediately stopped his magic, though he kept his fingers on the ground, feeling the rhythmic vibration of boots hitting the forest floor.

He didn't open his eyes as two bodies sat down heavily on either side of him. His magic didn't sense any impending danger. He withdrew his hand from the ground and folded his arms across his middle. He suspected he knew who his sudden companions were; Gwaine and Elyan had been two of the guards doing the rounds of the market, keeping an eye on things.

"Noticed you slipped off, mate," a familiar, slightly accented voice sounded from his right, confirming his suspicion.

"I thought we should give you some space," Elyan added, accusation in his tone when he added, "But Gwaine convinced me that we should be nosy."

Merlin grinned, opening his eyes to glance at the two knights. "Nosy is fine."

"What's up?" Gwaine raised an eyebrow, nudging his shoulder.

"It's stupid," Merlin huffed, shaking his head at himself. "It's Arthur's birthday in a couple of weeks."

"Ah."

"Exactly. What do you get a _king_ for his birthday? If he wanted something all he has to do is snap his fingers."

"Sex," Gwaine offered. "Sex is always good."

Merlin gaped at him, mortified. Even Elyan – used to the other knight's shameful humour – shuffled slightly, clearly uncomfortable. Merlin was tempted to make Gwaine regret the comment but threw the idea away; an ostentatious display of magic so close to Camelot's market wouldn't be the wisest idea he'd ever had.

"Funny," he narrowed his eyes at Gwaine. "Now go away."

Gwaine snorted and leaned his back against the tree trunk, evidently making himself comfortable to stay. Merlin huffed but couldn't help the small, amused smile that tugged at his lips.

"I have no idea what to get him," Merlin sighed, closing his eyes.

"Good job you have us, then," Elyan smiled, shifting effortlessly to his feet.

Gwaine copied the movement and held out a hand to help Merlin up. Merlin grasped his wrist and let the knight haul him to his feet. Wordlessly, they returned to the market and perused the stalls, searching with keen eyes for the perfect gift for an arrogant king.

After an hour of fruitless wandering, the knights promised that they'd return the next day and continue to look with Merlin. They returned to the castle in silence but Merlin felt a lot better. Even his headache was beginning to fade, which was a great relief.

"Merlin," Gwaine caught his elbow when he attempted to return to his duties.

"I have to attend to the queen," Merlin explained.

Gwaine released him but gave him a look. "Later, we're going to have a talk about Caldwell."

Merlin nodded once, swallowing at the idea, and quickly walked away. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

Merlin stood by the pillar behind Caldwell's seat during the feast. He was on duty, serving the Queen and the knight during the impressive display of wealth, entertainment and luxury. Uther Pendragon had been renowned for the feasts he hosted. They rarely needed a reason and Uther delighted in the fact that Camelot's celebrations were revered by the other kingdoms.

It seemed his son was eager to uphold the tradition of these elaborate, far too embellished feasts, especially with the foreign delegation staying in Camelot. Arthur may have improved in character since becoming a king but he still had a tendency to show off on occasion. This was one of those times.

But it made Merlin smile to see Arthur look as young as he really was, smiling and carefree as the night wore on. Being a king – the king of Camelot, no less – had taken its toll on Arthur. It pained Merlin to see him so miserable, weary and, at times, _defeated_. It was good to see him young and joyous for once, if only for one night of entertainment.

Still...watching Arthur laugh, joke and drink with his most loyal knights and trusted friends was only entertaining for the first half of the evening. By the early hours of the morning, Merlin was swaying on his feet. He'd been up earlier than normal to help prepare for the feat and had been on his feet all day, both seeing to his duties and also to help with the preparations. His body ached and he was very much looking forward to sleep.

Unfortunately, the entertainment was still ongoing and the feast showed no signs of slowing down. Merlin groaned quietly to himself and leaned heavily against the pillar, his eyes slipping closed. He wobbled slightly on his feet.

"Merlin?"

He forced his eyes to open and moved dutifully to Caldwell's side, working to keep the exhaustion off his face. He refilled the knight's goblet with wine, his usual internal grumblings starting up. Why couldn't the nobles fill their own damn goblets with wine? They weren't children and they weren't physically ill. They were perfectly capable of doing it themselves but always insisted on having servants do it instead. Probably another stupid display of posturing and nobility, Merlin supposed.

He looked up as he poured, smiling when he saw and heard Arthur laughing brightly at something Percival said. His laughter never failed to cause a warm tug in Merlin's chest.

Then Arthur's eyes met Merlin's and he grinned at his king, his stomach flipping pleasantly. But Arthur's laughter faded and there was something in his eyes that made Merlin's stomach flip again, this time with a nauseous feeling. He couldn't place the emotion in Arthur's eyes but it definitely wasn't good.

Arthur looked back at Percival, grinning again, and effectively broke eye contact. Merlin swallowed, a foreboding feeling creeping into his bones.

A loud curse broke him free of his rapidly spiralling worry and he blinked, realising that he'd overfilled the goblet and had splashed wine on Caldwell's shirt. The knight scraped his chair back, lurching to his feet to avoid getting more of the liquid spilled on him.

Merlin floundered for a moment before quickly replacing the wine on the table and searching for something to mop up the spilled wine.

"This won't come out," Caldwell snapped, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall to the knight and the servant. "What are you playing out?"

Merlin bowed and held the position, gazing at the stone floor as he mumbled, "I apologise, Sir Caldwell."

"It'll stain," the knight grumbled, wiping in dismay at the red stain on his shirt.

"I'll soak it tonight," Merlin promised.

The knight gazed at him for a moment before nodding, his expression relaxing again. Merlin straightened, wincing at the creak of protest his spine made from holding the uncomfortable position. Caldwell offered him a reassuring smile.

"Perhaps," Arthur's voice interrupted the altercation, voice cool. "Merlin should go do that now."

Merlin blinked, caught off guard. Arthur was publicly dismissing him at a feast. He felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck, betrayed hurt surging through his veins. He gaped at Arthur for a moment in disbelief but when the king made no sign of backing down from his harsh (and unwarranted) dismissal, Merlin looked away, gritting his teeth. Bowing once to save face – storming out wouldn't be wise idea considering he was only a servant, after all – he avoided looking at Arthur as he left the hall.

Outside in the cold, empty corridor, Merlin paused, pressing his head against the stone wall. He had no idea what had made Arthur so cold and distant towards him and he hoped it was nothing that would last longer than the night. He hoped it was something trivial that he was reading far too much into.

Because the alternative...was far too worrying to contemplate.

**0**

Arthur was being cold. And that was fine, because whatever had happened to cause Arthur such obvious anger, Merlin was just as angry. Arthur had humiliated him at the feast and wasn't deigning to even _talk _to him about what was going on.

Arthur spent two days avoiding Merlin and, when forced to communicate with him, was just full of passive aggressive remarks. But that was fine, because Merlin avoided him just as easily and matched his remarks with equally loaded comments that had the king narrowing his eyes in unadulterated fury.

The longer it went on, the higher the tension rose between them, spilling over into those around them. The knights were more subdued than usual, aware of the tension between the king and the servant. The servants were quiet and tried to stay out of Arthur's way as his temper was spiralling out of control. They tended to avoid Merlin, too, since his patience was also thin. Gaius tried to act like nothing was awry but he didn't press Merlin as much as he normally would, aware that Merlin was _this _close to losing it.

When he had a break from his duties, he left the citadel for the forest. There was a patrol but he knew their routine by now and avoided them, isolating himself. When he was certain no one would stumble upon him, he took a deep, calming breath and released his magic in torrents, ensuring that it enhanced the nature around him as opposed to destroying it.

It wasn't uncommon for his magic to become restless and sometimes even violent when his emotions were intense, especially when it came to anger. He often had to let it loose just a little in order to calm it down. Slipping up in front of people wasn't an option, even if Arthur and the knights of the round table were aware that he was a sorcerer now. Showing his magic in front of Camelot's residents – the people that feared magic due to Uther's ruthless and insidious loathing of it – would likely incite a mob that even the king could not tame.

Merlin certainly wasn't putting Arthur in that position anyway, even if he was acting like a clotpole.

As he was returning to the castle, his path crossed a small group of the knights'. They greeted him with wary smiles, clearly uncomfortable due to the rift between him and Arthur.

"We're heading down to The Rising Sun," Elyan informed him, clapping him on the shoulder. "You should join us."

Merlin raised an eyebrow; the knights were visiting the tavern in the early afternoon? Then again, considering how harsh Arthur had been on them during training, he couldn't blame them. He'd want a drink too if he'd been on the receiving end of Arthur's cruel criticisms and even crueller strikes. As it was, he'd passed by the training ground during his chores and had received a look from the king that chilled his blood.

He'd been looked at that way from Arthur on numerous occasions before but those times he had _warranted _it and he hadn't thought that Arthur could look at him with such cool contempt, not since they'd shared a bed together. He'd thought himself above Arthur's harsher attitudes. Apparently he was remarkably wrong.

Merlin agreed to join the knights at the tavern. He had the afternoon off and needed to relax after so long of exhaustion and chores. He walked with the knights to The Rising Sun, the tavern closest to the castle and the one most popular with the knights for its good ale and, in Gwaine's case particularly, stunning serving girls.

They were given the knights' usual table and Merlin, by default given he was with the nobles, was handed an extra chair so he could join his friends at the rectangular, intimate booth. A serving girl with a large chest exposed by her low cut bodice, a painted face and long red hair approached the table and Gwaine immediately perked up, grinning. She gave him a saucy wink in return.

"Sir Gwaine," she admonished flirtatiously. "I have missed you." She slid a mischievous smile towards Percival. "And your friend."

Unlike his womanising friend, Percival flushed, his shy gaze dropping to the table. He was a gentle giant at heart, chivalrous views on how woman should be treated and honourable behaviour wrapped up in an exceptional amount of muscle. While he admired the loose women of the bar from afar, he tended to avoid indulging in their attention like some of the other knights, honouring the idea that women should be treated with respect.

Gwaine had similar views and would be the first to defend the fairer sex. He was a good, honourable and fiercely loyal man. A fantastic knight, brilliant warrior and exceptional friend. But that didn't stop him from delighting in the attention of women, especially when he'd had far too much ale. But he treated the women he indulged in with respect and loyalty, which was more than could be said for some of the other knights.

"My apologies, Githa," Gwaine offered a roguish grin. "Our good king has us working as doggedly as is expected of all respectable knights, of course."

"Hmm," she purred, leaning down so he had a full view of her ample chest before murmuring in his ear, "Next time you battle Camelot's enemies, will you think of me?"

"To defend your honour, madam, would be an honour and a pleasure."

"_Pleasure_ being the apt word," Elyan muttered under his breath, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the group.

Gwaine only smiled at the teasing and Githa slid off his lap, offering a raised, suggestive eyebrow at the men. She offered a wink to Merlin and the warlock blushed as the knights whistled and cheered. She serving girl sashayed off to retrieve them all a tankard of ale each and Merlin looked down as the teasing started.

"Our Merlin has an admirer," Elyan smiled.

"Yes," Percival smirked. "Who'd have thought someone with such gangly limbs and large ears would earn the attention of the fairer sex?"

They laughed as the tips of Merlin's ears turned red.

"Children," Leon admonished lightly. "Leave him be."

"Finally, the voice of reason," Merlin muttered.

Leon's smile turned wicked. "After all, are you forgetting that he can turn us all into toads?"

The knights burst into raucous laughter and Merlin glared at the oldest knight.

"You overestimate my abilities," he grumbled. "Changing one's shape is powerful and taxing magic, especially when it is someone else you are using it on. I doubt I could do it."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "You turned an army of sorcerers to ash and brought Arthur back from the dead. If _that _wasn't taxing, I don't know what is."

Merlin didn't answer. He hadn't informed the knights of the repercussions of the magic he'd used during that battle. He didn't want them to behave like Arthur tended to now; like he was fragile and breakable. He didn't need it from his friends as well as his lover.

"So," Gwaine leaned forward, assessing the warlock with amusement in his eyes. "Githa has expressed interest. Will you pursue her?"

"Gwaine," Percival rebuked carefully. "What would our king do if he heard you discussing such a thing?"

"I shudder to think," Gwaine snorted. "The mood he's been in recently, he'd likely remove my head with a mace."

A tense silent settled over the group and Merlin shifted uncomfortably. He was certain he hadn't done anything to warrant Arthur's cold, harsh attitude but he still felt bad as the tension was affecting the knights. They didn't deserve it.

"Perhaps some harmless flirting with some maidens might knock some sense into our king," Gwaine suggested darkly. "Jealousy is a powerful motivator."

"Gwaine," Elyan warned. "Stop meddling."

Merlin sighed, settling back in his chair. "I don't know what I have done to upset him."

The knights paused in their answer as two serving girls placed tankards of ale down on the table. Once they were gone, Merlin picked up his cup and stared at the froth on top of the ale for a long moment.

Finally, Leon spoke:

"Arthur hasn't spoken to you?"

Merlin looked up at the knight, puzzled. "No. He just started acting...cold."

Gwaine and Leon exchanged a glance. After a long drink from his tankard, Leon answered Merlin's obvious confusion.

"We assumed that he spoke to you about it and you had an argument."

"Nothing as _fair _as that," Merlin muttered. "He's apparently opted to ignore me like a child rather than talk to me about what has bothered him."

"Merlin..." Percival started.

"I know he is the king and I am a servant, a _peasant_," Merlin spat the word, his rage at the situation spilling free. "And I am aware that the fact we are both men is...uncommon. But I had thought that, between just him and me, we were _equal_. Clearly, I thought _wrong_."

"Sir Caldwell approached him not long ago," Leon explained. "He has requested that Arthur release you from your duties as a servant of Camelot so that you can join him on their return to Theor to become Caldwell's personal manservant. He will make a formal request to both Arthur and you the day before they leave the kingdom."

"_What_?" Merlin gaped at the knight, stunned. "But...Caldwell asked me not long ago and I told him my place is in Camelot."

"He seems to believe you will change your mind," Percival murmured.

"Why would Arthur take this out on _me_ rather than speak to me about it?"

"Merlin," Elyan started carefully. "You have left him twice before; once on your quest for knowledge about the sorcerer and once when you...died...on the battlefield. His belief that you will remain with him isn't as solid as you might hope."

"Oh," Merlin realised, frowning. "But being so cold is not helping matters."

"Perhaps you should talk to him about it," Percival suggested. "Reassure him of your loyalty."

"Why _should _I?" he asked bitterly. "He should have spoken to me rather than humiliated me. He can talk to me, not the other way around. Why should I reassure him of my loyalty? He should believe in it without me reiterating it at every turn. He should trust me, not doubt my faith in him."

The knights fell silent at that, clearly at a loss for what to say. After a moment, Percival placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It was Gwaine who broke the subdued silence, raising a tankard to Merlin with a cheeky smile.

"You know the best way to deal with trouble, my friend? Drink it away."

They laughed quietly at that and Merlin nodded, following his friend's advice. He finished his own tankard far too quickly, receiving a cheer from the group and a vaguely nauseous feeling for his effort.

The conversation turned lighter and Merlin spent the afternoon with his friends in the tavern, laughing and teasing until Leon suggested they retire to the castle. Merlin stumbled into the physician's quarters in early evening and earned himself a raised eyebrow from his guardian when he stumbled over nothing. He was far too drunk to feel embarrassed at his near paralytic state and he offered a cheerful, lopsided grin as he staggered up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Merlin..." Gaius warned.

The warlock waved a hand dismissively and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, however, he registered through his drunken fug why Gaius had tried to caution him.

Arthur was sat on his bed, waiting. He seemed surprised by Merlin's obvious intoxication and stood up, expression guarded.

Merlin snorted, lifting a finger to point at Arthur's chest. "You, my dear friend, are a complete and utter _clotpole_."

And with that, he threw himself onto his bed and promptly fell fast asleep.


End file.
